


Odds and Ends

by AshaCrone



Series: Nesting [4]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alien Biology, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshaCrone/pseuds/AshaCrone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Smutty asides that are not quite in-canon with my Nesting series, through Breeder and after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Puppet, part one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellsinki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellsinki/gifts).



> These are smutty asides that have dubious continuity with Breeder, To Terms and Carry On. Please enjoy.

  
**Odds and Ends:**  
Puppet, part one

Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware and Electronic Arts, not me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Warnings: adult language and situations, dub-con and non-con, mentions mpreg, sexual situations, gender-bending, and the Illusive Man being creepy.

Characters/ pairings: Colonist War Hero Paragade ManShep/Illusive Man, Miranda Lawson, Wilson, others mentioned

Summary: The Illusive Man's investment in Shepard was immense. So when he heard something had caused 'complications,' he decided to make a personal visit to Lazarus Station.

Dedication: I hate you hellsinki. I really do.

~*~*~*~*~

"I understand your concern," Miranda said, "But your personal oversight is not necessary."

The Illusive Man, Jack Harper, took out a cigarette to hold between his fingers, but not lighting it just yet. He was standing in the landing bay of Lazarus Station, pondering the report in his other hand. The report that had been sent to him less than a day before, and one that had him very, very unnerved.

He noted that Miranda seemed perfectly calm; she was too well trained to do anything as obvious as shift her weight or bite one of her perfect, lush lips. No, her nerves were betrayed in smaller, subtler ways. The stiffness in her shoulders and back, and tenseness of her jaw. He could imagine her teeth grinding together. Miranda never did like having someone looking over her shoulder.

"I think it is. I think it is very much my concern. Explain to me how half of Shepard's medical history escaped our net? We already knew that he was intersexed. Why didn't we look further than that?" The Illusive Man asked, taking in the admittedly bizarre report. 

"The records simply weren't there. There were notes and redactions, but..." She exhaled, face twisting in a way that would have been a grimace on anyone else. "We found them, with the other files on the Breeder program. It was... very well hidden. Disguised. Given the possible embarrassment to the Alliance, I can see why. It was my fault, and I take all responsibility for our being caught off guard like this."

This was only half true, and they both knew it. Their intelligence division had been in charge of finding out Shepard's medical records. 

This kind of incompetence could not stand. The Illusive Man would be sending out a few... _memos_... via Kai Leng the next day.

"Is there any way to reverse the process?" he asked, handing back the report and taking his lighter out of his pocket. He flicked his fingers against the old-fashioned striker, the cigarette lighting as he took a very long drag. "Will it interfere with his resurrection?"

A mere three months into Project Lazarus, and they had managed to restart metabolic processes in Shepard's body. According to the reports, Shepard's heart beat, his lungs breathed, and his brain chemistry was starting to normalize, even if all of it was currently maintained by implants. That was when they had noticed it.

Then at six, Shepard's body had seemed, out of nowhere, to grow a womb, vagina and labia. His pelvic bone was already wider than was typical for a human male, but now it loosened and morphed to give it more width. Miranda had contacted him the day after she had discovered it. 

"No, the resurrection process has been successful; he's comatose, but his body is well on the way to recovery. We are still working on his brain and nervous system, and altering any of his neurochemistry right now- hormonal or otherwise- would set back his mental recovery by months, possibly years." Miranda, this time, did grimace. 

The Illusive Man lifted an eyebrow at her. She quickly regained her poise.

"But it is not reversible," she said, going on grimly. "Not without permanently altering his body. Your original orders said to bring Shepard back the way he was before. The same man, the same morals. It would be as if he was waking up without an arm if we took away his sexuality."

"Do we know the cause?"

They were walking towards the life support lab, empty of the support staff and lesser scientists that aided Miranda and Wilson. They had been banished from this area for the duration; given some time off was the reason they were told. The lab itself had been sealed for the past day. None were to know that the Illusive Man was there. 

"Could be any number of things." Miranda paused at the door. "You may want to wear an air filter," she said, as Wilson arrived. He looked uncomfortable as he offered his boss a mask. "The pheromones he's putting out are powerful. Theoretically, this should change after the first few cycles, but I've found Jacob over here sniffing around. He had no idea why he was even here. Wilson was-"

" _Miranda!_ " he snapped, panicked. 

"You had your hand on his dick, Wilson." She was matter of fact as she opened the door, gesturing for the other men to precede her. "And he's unconscious."

Derek Shepard was laying on a metal surgical table, and he looked significantly better than meat and tubes. His skin grafts had finished growing over his body, around the small sensor nodes following the lines of major nerves up and down his spine and limbs. Said skin was pale, unexposed to any UV light and still generating melanin, but was also flushed from sweat and arousal. Yet if someone were to see him laying there, they would be unlikely to recognize the most famous human in the galaxy. Not only were his scars gone, but his brawler's build was reduced to an emaciated wraith. The Lazarus team hadn't begun retraining his body and muscles back to their former robust and athletic state.

"He had a hormone regulator that prevented his body from shifting. It expired within days of his mission to Virmire." The Illusive Man nodded as she spoke. While he personally thought Shepard's attachment to his crew was a weakness, it was no secret that Shepard had been close to Chief Williams. Some rumors had said it was even bordering on the romantic. "Almost immediately afterwards they were recalled to the Citadel and had to steal the Normandy." 

"And saving the galaxy took priority. But you said there were multiple reasons, implying that the loss of the implant alone was not it," Illusive Man said. His cigarette was starting to burn low, and he took his mask off to take a drag.

"This is conjecture," Miranda admitted. Then she did a double take. "Sir!"

"I'm hardly going to lose control because he smells good." The Illusive Man lifted an eyebrow. "I, unlike Wilson or Jacob, regularly get to release my frustrations."

Miranda waved the smoke away, and frowned. Deeply. If it were anyone else, she would have had him removed from the project, he knew. "At any rate, when I last spoke with Doctor T'soni I asked her about any romantic entanglements that weren't one night stands. She was flustered, but admitted that there was someone on board the Normandy. Staff Commander Alenko."

The Illusive Man's expression stayed static, but he took another drag. "What are you suggesting?"

"When I inquired about the nature of their relationship, T'soni wasn't just embarrassed, she was frustrated. But when she did answer, she said they were very close and that he held a special place in Shepard's mind. She was able to sense this when they melded. Up until this point, most of Shepard's sexual history has been of the friends-with-benefits kind, or one-time flings. If he found a partner, a male, who inspired more than just lust..."

"You're suggesting this was deliberate on Shepard's part?" This time it was Wilson who interrupted, spitting in disgust. He crossed his arms and scowled behind his mask. "Why would he-"

"It would be consistent with his psych profile." Miranda's control wavered for her fingers to tap, briefly, before her face. "He was the eldest child of his family, and all reports indicate he was given responsibility for rearing his youngest brother. Add in that Kaidan Alenko is an excellent genetic match, whose own profile indicates a tendency towards care-giving..."

Miranda's musical accent played over his ears, but the Illusive Man wasn't paying much attention once the idea of Shepard willing to get pregnant crossed his mind. Somehow, he hadn't expected the idea to be so... desirable. Curiosity tickled his subconscious as he imagined himself lifting Shepard's sheet and touching his fresh, new skin. Seeing his nipples lift and tighten under Jack's fingers. His penis took interest, stiffening almost of its own accord as a weird image, of himself, spreading Shepard's legs and caressing his lower lips, seeing them wet with craving. For him. 

"Sir?"

The Illusive Man blinked, coming back to himself from where he had been staring, and realized he had been licking his lips. 

"Yes, Miranda?"

"Perhaps you should... get some air," she suggested, her brows knit together. 

"No, I'm fine. It's a physical reaction, nothing more. You're saying that you don't know if he wanted this or not, and that you can't take the chance he didn't want this to occur." He saw her face clear when she realized he _had_ been listening. "I will defer to your judgment on the matter. If you think this will not interfere beyond having to order tampons, it's your decision."

"But I would also like to see your work," he said, taking one last puff off his cigarette. 

Miranda nodded, and he listened to her with one ear as she started telling him their plans for his physical therapy.

And that was when Shepard sat up, the sheet covering his modesty pooling at his waist.

The Illusive Man blinked at Shepard, then at Miranda, who nodded. "We're keeping his waking consciousness suppressed; otherwise he would be in so much pain we would have to keep him completely drugged. This way we can use a VI to drive his body while we start his physical therapy. His body is effectively a marionette."

The Illusive Man's mouth watered, and he fought to keep from swallowing. 

"Is he? Can he follow orders?"

"For now, yes. He won't be able to problem solve, but simple commands are quite possible. Shepard, stand up."

There was a faint glow coming off the nodes along his nerves as Shepard stood, his sheet dropping from his lap and onto the deck. There was nothing on his face besides bland, blank calm, gaze fixed into some middle distance. 

He was also half-hard.

Miranda sighed. "Shepard, pick up your sheet."

He did so, but didn't do more than hold it. 

"As you can see, you have to tell him what to do exactly, but it means we don't have to manhandle a comatose body," she said, as the Illusive Man nodded. He didn't keep them that long afterwards. It was late.

Miranda and Wilson deserved a rest, after all.

~*~*~*~*~

It wouldn't leave him alone.

The Illusive Man had chosen not to leave that night. He had chosen, instead, to wait the night. He had perfect access to everyone's schedule. He knew that Miranda would be getting usual five hours of sleep, and Wilson would have been sleeping even before that. None were allowed into the science wing while Shepard was there and Miranda was not. 

No one, except for him. None in Cerberus could keep him out of his own station.

He was pacing back and forth in his quarters, tonguing the end of his cigarette as he walked. His eyes flickered back and forth. There were a dozen, hundreds of things he could be doing at that moment. Reviewing any number of cells that needed his personal oversight. He could be reviewing the future physical therapy Shepard was going to begin. He could drink himself under the table, take a cold shower, get any number of pharmaceuticals to help him sleep until the effect of the pheromones wore off. He could, if he wanted to, maintain control of his body. He was sure of it.

He licked his lips again. The question was _why_.

Shepard owed his existence to the Illusive Man. That he was breathing again was a testament to how much he owed the Illusive Man. He had been a thorn in the Illusive Man's side since his initiation as a Spectre, and that he was shaking the Illusive Man's personal control was unforgiveable. The man was going to be an incredible risk, and Jack wanted a return on his investment.

Besides, it wasn't like Shepard would remember it.

Tossing his cigarette on the deck, he walked out of his quarters and down to the science wing. Shepard owed him. A life for a...

To be continued. With smut.


	2. Puppet, part two

  
**Odds and Ends:**  
Puppet, part two

Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware and Electronic Arts, not me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Warnings: adult language and situations, dub-con and non-con, mentions mpreg, sexual situations, gender-bending, and the Illusive Man being creepy.

Characters/ pairings: Colonist War Hero Paragade ManShep/Illusive Man, Miranda Lawson, Wilson, others mentioned

Summary: The Illusive Man's investment in Shepard was immense. So when he heard something had caused 'complications,' he decided to make a personal visit to Lazarus Station.

~*~*~*~*~

The Illusive Man stood beside Shepard's steel slab, thumbing his nose as he looked down at the man's weak, feeble form.

He shuddered, feeling a flush race over his face and neck. Shepard was, right at that moment, almost completely unappealing. On the surface, there was nothing to make his heart quicken, to make his dick hard. Yet that was exactly what was happening and he felt rage over his loss of his control.

Shepard deserved to be punished. 

And there was no reason for him _not_ to take what he wanted. There never had been. Oh, he could imagine Miranda telling him about the potential psychological ramifications, and he knew that Shepard would never listen to the Illusive Man if he found out. But he never would. Besides, Shepard owed him his life, owed him for the damage to his operations. Shepard owed him a life for... everything. The money he was putting into Shepard's resurrection, the fact that he was breaking the laws of the universe in order to do so... Shepard owed him _more_ than just his life.

He pulled up his omni-tool, pursing his lips. Miranda had outlined what the small nodes did, and how to use them. Interfacing with the program gave him a chance to put parameters on the VI that steered Shepard's body; he had no desire to fuck a corpse.

Shepard's body was still healing and frail, but was completed, up to and including his brain. That brain was being kept functionally at the of a deep coma while they finished putting in his new L5.n biotic implant.

The Illusive Man ran his tongue over his top lip, and drew one finger from Shepard's face, down his neck and along his collar bone, stopping at the top edge of Shepard's sheet. He peeled it back, pursing his lips as he noted details: the faint glowing seams where his skin grafts had not finished healing, and the fuzz of fine black hair sprouting on his head, if not so much on his face. He let the sheet drop to the deck, and blinked when he saw Shepard's eyes start to flicker under his eyelids. 

Shepard was dreaming. 

The Illusive Man's eyebrows arched, curious as he put one hand on Shepard's chest, seeing the skin flinch.

"Shepard," he whispered, "wake up."

His eyes opened, not fixing on anything, utterly expressionless. The Illusive Man trailed his fingers down Shepard's chest, circling his nipples, then dug his manicured nails into the tender, fresh skin. Shepard's lips parted in a startled, wordless gasp. The Illusive Man scraped downwards, a grin crawling up towards his unblinking eyes. 

"Spread your legs."

Shepard opened up, knees curling up next to his shoulders as he presented himself to the Illusive Man, who took in the strange changes that had happened to the other man's form.

There was extra skin under and around Shepard's hardening cock, about all that remained of his balls. His lips were wet, swollen and pink as the Illusive Man reached down to touch them. They were as smooth as the rest of Shepard's new skin. He pushed forward, enjoying the velvety, sopping texture of the flesh under his fingers as he first traced Shepard's entrance and went inside-

And stopped. Chuckled. "So, the scientists who designed you were traditionalists? Or was it just bad luck that you came back with a _hymen_?" He lightly brushed his fingers against the thin membrane. 

Shepard was _tight_. Not only was he a virgin, his cunt was _new_. Never used, never touched. All for him. The Illusive Man's mouth watered as smelled himself mixed with Shepard's overwhelming scent and sucked his fingers. Shepard tasted human, strong and intoxicating. 

He didn't remember the moment he had leaned down, burying his face in Shepard's pussy. He dragged his tongue up and down, listening to the man gasp and sigh. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Shepard's toes curl, his fingers dig into his own thighs as he tried to arch into the Illusive Man's mouth. He pressed his fingers inside Shepard's new channel, swirling and circling, feeling the other man wind tighter-

Before he drew back and paused. His cock throbbing as he swallowed. 

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" he hissed, reaching down to draw a quick line up from the base of Shepard's erection-

To see him come, quick and hard, spurting over his chest and trembling with the force of it. 

"Slut," the Illusive Man whispered, licking his lips. He could still taste Shepard there.

"Shepard, sit up." The man once called Jack Harper continued licking his lips as Shepard obeyed. He stepped back. "Get on your knees." Jack opened his pants at the sight of Shepard before him, pulling out his cock. "Now, lick me, top to bottom and back again."

Miranda had suggested, when she had briefed him on Shepard's condition, that the VI was able to allow Shepard's personal experience to take over if he had done something before. It was effective to see how well his brain remembered certain activities like shooting a gun, crouching into cover... or sucking a dick. Shepard's skills were no longer muscle memory, but his regenerated brain still recalled old talents, habits, and Shepard's skills lingered.

Shepard's tongue daintily lapped and licked at the Illusive Man's erect cock, almost a tease. He never went further, doing exactly what was asked of him, and the Illusive Man grabbed the back of Shepard's head. 

"Look at me, Shepard," he hissed, before cramming Shepard down on his cock and listening to him choke. "Relax your throat and take me as far as you can-"

Shepard inhaled, sputtered, before doing as he was ordered. The Illusive Man closed his eyes as he moved Shepard's head back and forth, imagining the man fully conscious, forced to suck the Illusive Man's dick. The look of defeat on Shepard's face was delicious-

Opening his eyes again, he looked down at Shepard's blank face and sneered, pulling him off. 

"Stop, Shepard." The man stopped. He was still blank, still untouched by his situation. The lights were on, but there was no one home. 

Or was there?

Shepard's eyes had started to flick back and forth, dreaming even as his body continued to move. 

"Wake up, Shepard," he said, repeating his earlier command. Miranda hadn't mentioned that there was enough of a mind for Shepard to dream. Perhaps she was wrong on other things as well?

Shepard refused to budge. His eyes remained open, but they continued in the same pattern of a dreamer. The Illusive Man frowned; he didn't have long. Miranda would notice that her project wasn't alone if he lingered on. 

"Wake _up_ ," the Illusive Man growled, anger sending heat up and down his back and face. An irrational demand in an irrational moment, as he lashed out, slapping Shepard across the face and sending him tumbling to his side.

The look of surprised pain on Shepard's face meant that the feeling, at least, had registered, and the Illusive Man relished that petty triumph. The dream, at least, was disrupted. 

"Stand up. Lean on the table and spread your legs."

The pale, naked body obeyed, resting Shepard's forearms on the cold metal. The Illusive Man tugged at his erection, walking up behind Shepard and putting his hands on the other man's waist.

He let the head of his dick slide up against Shepard's tight, slick entrance. Then he groaned as he thrust once, shallowly, and with more force as he broke through the small barrier inside Shepard. 

Shepard's back arched, a choked sob of pain cutting through his silence. The Illusive Man grinned, tightly, as he wrenched Shepard's arms off the metal table and behind his back. Shepard's head hit the table with a sharp thud, whimpering again. 

Yet the man was _wet_ , his pussy convulsing around the Illusive Man's erection as he pumped his hips, slapping them against Shepard's ass. His body was begging, greedy for the Illusive Man's seed. So that he could fulfill his biological imperative. So that he could do what he was designed for, even before the Illusive Man or Miranda or even the Alliance got their claws into him.

So, he gave Shepard what he wanted. He came, balls drawing high and tight as he burst inside Shepard's open, hungry womb. He pressed harder, listening to Shepard gasp, trying to hump against the table, to get his own relief. 

The Illusive Man grunted in contempt. 

"You don't deserve anything else," he said, pulling out and grabbing Shepard's fallen blanket to wipe himself clean of blood, semen and fluid. "Lay back down on the table, Shepard." He gave a small shake, as he imagined what might happened in the coming months. Somehow the idea of Shepard's belly swelling large with his offspring made his cock twitch again. 

Shepard's own cock started to flag as his arousal waned, laying there, legs stained with blood and cum. The Illusive Man felt proud; the once great hero was humiliated. He had bred his bitch.

Turning, he finished fastening his pants and left.

~*~*~*~*~

The Illusive Man took a long drag off his cigarette, ignoring the magnificent vista of his dying star in favor of something else. Something he had expected, but something that was just now being confirmed. That something was pulled up on the screen before him, in a live feed from the Lazarus' station's bio wing.

Shepard looked peaceful underneath his sheet, his face unmoving, almost completely unchanged from the night that the Illusive Man had taken his due. His hair was longer, thicker, his skin looking more like Shepard's natural olive. His musculature had filled out... as had the small swell under his navel.

The Illusive Man had to fight to keep his face straight as his lips wanted to smile, his stomach twist in disgust while his penis stiffened in pleasure. 

Miranda wasn't quite standing within the circle of the QEC, instead pacing back and forth, in and out of view. Her famous control had been well and truly rattled. 

"I've tested all the employees, and checked the security feeds," Miranda said, coming to a stop within the circle of the QEC disk. She paused, a frown creasing her perfect face. "But the paternity of the embryo still remains... illusive."

It was as close to an outright accusation as she would ever voice. The Illusive Man had no fear of his being found out, not on his own station. The sensors would not recognize him, and his DNA had been erased from any and all records. That Miranda had been able to deduce so much was a testament to her own skills. Yet she would never tell, even help him cover this up. None would deny that they needed Shepard, and the dangers of him ever finding out. 

"Does it?" he asked, taking another drag off his cigarette. 

"Yes." She paused, arms still crossed, and this time her words were a test. "I wanted to bring this to your attention before I terminated the pregnancy."

There was a pain in her voice that made the Illusive Man's eyebrows lift. Few knew of Miranda's desperate wish for her own child. Even fewer knew that she would never bear her own. That she was having to terminate was a painful reminder of that fact. 

"Would it put his progress behind if he was allowed to come to term?" he asked, brushing his thumb over his bottom lip. 

"Not badly, but..." She stopped and glared at him. "If he were to find out that we had forced him through a pregnancy-"

"We wouldn't need a control chip," the Illusive Man replied, leaning back in his chair. "Isn't that what you wanted?"

Miranda stopped, her face frozen in a rictus, before nodding slowly. "If we needed to control him... threatening a child, especially one that was biologically related, would work. But sir-"

"We won't," the Illusive Man said. "You'll find a home for the child, one of comfort and safety. After all, what Shepard doesn't know, can't hurt him."

Miranda's fists clenched, before she nodded "Yes sir." She turned to leave. 

"Oh, and Miranda?" She paused. "Keep me updated, will you?" He shifted his weight in his chair, crossing his legs to hide the bulge in the front of his pants. "I want to see his progress."

A look of distaste flashed over Miranda's face, before she nodded. "As you say. Goodbye, sir. I will keep you informed."

To be continued.  
Questions, comments and criticisms welcomed and encouraged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot harder to write than I had imagined. My goal was this: The Illusive Man is a sick bastard. Did I succeed?


	3. Puppet, part three

  
**Odds and Ends:**  
Puppet, part three

Disclaimer: Mass Effect belongs to Bioware and Electronic Arts, not me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Warnings: adult language and situations, dub-con and non-con, mentions mpreg, sexual situations, gender-bending, and the Illusive Man being creepy.

Characters/ pairings: Colonist War Hero Paragade ManShep/Illusive Man, Miranda Lawson, Wilson, others mentioned.

Summary: The Illusive Man's investment in Shepard was immense. So when he heard something had caused 'complications,' he decided to make a personal visit to Lazarus Station.

~*~*~*~*~

Miranda had never intended to spend so much time between Shepard's legs.

This was due to her serious reservations about letting Wilson do it. As a result, she had become Shepard's de facto gynecologist as well as his obstetrician. No one but herself or Wilson was allowed into the bio wing where Shepard was housed. They had restricted access to Shepard's body after... 

Well, the best she could refer to it was _the incident_. 

She had learned, long before leaving her father, how to compartmentalize. Cerberus went to extremes to protect humanity. They made the hard decisions that civil governments were unable to formulate, let alone carry out. They continued to prepare humanity's place in the galaxy, up to and through the invasion of the Reapers. It was why the Illusive Man had chosen to... had chosen to...

She allowed herself a small frown. There was no physical proof. Oh, Shepard's pregnant and damaged body was there, but they couldn't identify the attacker. Nor had anyone appeared on the security feeds.

There was only one person on Lazarus Station who could have done this. What she didn't understand was _why_. If the Illusive Man genuinely wanted an offspring, and felt the need to use Shepard's genes, there were any number of ways to achieve it without... 

She pulled herself back to reality, walling those thoughts away as she watched her readouts on Shepard's body. Her own stomach knotted up as she watched a contraction force him to bear down. 

"At least you aren't aware of the pain," she told Shepard. Of course he didn't answer, instead straining as he pushed. Sweat poured down his blank face, deep red staining his chest and belly. She sighed and patted his shoulder like a he was a prize mare.

It had been a constant battle to maintain a healthy pregnancy. Shepard's body had struggled with the changes occurring: his bloody pressure would shoot up, he would vomit and get dehydrated, or his bloody sugar would spike dangerously high or low at a moment's notice. If they hadn't kept him constantly monitored, the fetus forced on him would have miscarried. 

They were approaching the end of fifteen hours of labor since they had chosen to induce. Miranda had contacted the Illusive Man, asking if he wanted updates, or even a video feed. 

He had said no. 

Miranda was reminded of when her sister, Oriana, was 'born.' Her father hadn't bothered to see her, instead leaving her in the hands of his chosen groomers. Like Miranda herself. Oriana was not to be allowed to see the man who created her until she was deemed worthy of his attention. Ironically, this lack of interest was what had allowed her to rescue the girl at all.

Her stomach twisted again before she felt a surge of excitement. "She's crowning!"

Wilson, who had been silent through most of the labor, nodded. 

A few more pushes, a cut, and a loud groan from Shepard heralded the newcomer's arrival, who howled in indignation at her change in environment. Miranda caught her in a blanket, wiping her eyes and mouth as she arched her back to continue crying loud enough to wake the dead. 

And somehow, she did. 

A small alarm bleat in the room as she looked up from the baby's very blue eyes. "There- on the monitor!"

"He's reacting to outside stimuli," Wilson said, choking on his words. She whipped around, the baby in her arms, as she saw Shepard's blinking blurry eyes around the room. Eyes, that for the first time since the Lazarus Project had begun, had sense to them. "He's showing an awareness of his surroundings- _without_ the VI interface. My god, Miranda, I think he's waking up."

The man was gasping for air, and she could only imagine the amount of pain he was in. He was looking at them, and at her, and reaching up for something. 

Not for something. For her. No.

For the baby. 

"Damn it, Wilson, he's not ready yet! Give him the sedative!" She looked down at Shepard, taking his grasping hand. "Shepard, don't try to move. Lie still. Try to stay calm."

"Heart rate is climbing- brain activity is off the charts," Wilson muttered after the first dose of sedative. "Stats pushing in the red zone. It's not working!"

Miranda exhaled, and put the baby on Shepard's chest, directing his hand over the squalling infant. "Another dose. Now." Just that small gesture of giving him the baby seemed to make him calm down. Already his pulse was falling as he held his daughter to his chest, her small mouth rooting for a nipple to take. 

The second dose of sedative started taking effect even as she latched on, and Shepard's look of distress eased into something more calm, even as he slipped back into unconsciousness. Miranda caught him as he fell backwards, and closed his eyes. 

"Heart rate dropping. Stats falling back into normal range," Wilson announced, unnecessarily. He glanced back at Shepard and tried to conceal a shudder.

Her chest was heaving like a bellows as she let the infant finish suckling and delivered the afterbirth. Her... mother... continued to sleep, but it was real sleep. Not the twilight consciousness of the VI driving his body. Shepard had finally risen from his own ashes. 

Miranda picked the baby up as Wilson scurried away; his lack of comfort with Shepard's intersex nature had been obvious from the beginning. Like it somehow threatened his own masculinity. She grunted to herself as she started hum while tying and cutting the baby's umbilical cord. 

"Hello, little one," she murmured as she washed the now calm infant. Bright blue eyes looked up at her with pouty exasperation under a dusting of orange hair. She took after her mother's mother, if what Miranda had found about the Shepard pedigree was true. "I'm going to take you to meet your father."

~*~*~*~*~

Miranda's appearance on the QEC was hardly a surprise to the Illusive Man. Nor was the bundle wrapped in her arms.

He took a drag off his cigarette. "I take it things went well?"

"Yes," she answered, looking down at the baby. Already, she was enchanted. That was something he could use. "But there was a complication. Shepard woke up."

"Really?"

"We sedated him, but his conscious mind fought to the forefront. We're going to cover all traces of his pregnancy from his body, but it's possible his subconscious will remember this. We're going to have to be careful from now on. He finds out about this..." she trailed off, and the Illusive Man nodded. They would lose control. While they could threaten the infant in a worst-possible-situation moment, it would have to be as last resort. Any willing cooperation would go out the airlock, but if they needed a blade on the man's throat... they had it.

But it would only work once. 

Did he want to do that to his daughter?

He took a swallow from his ever-present whiskey glass. "See that she's put in the best care, Miranda. I trust your judgment here." His own involvement, or lack thereof, was never in question. He could not show any interest in her life. 

Miranda nodded, putting one of her fingers in the newborn's grip. 

"Do you want to name her?"

"I didn't think it was really my place," Miranda said, cautiously. "I mean..."

"You've taken care of her, and made sure she survived to birth. I believe you're more than worthy," the Illusive Man answered. "What would you pick?"

Miranda was quiet for a moment, freeing her finger to draw it over the babe's fragile cheek and nose. "Chandra. The moon."

The Illusive Man lifted an eyebrow. "Does that make you the ogress?" 

Miranda looked up at him, eyes narrowed, before stepping off the QEC pad. There was nothing left to say.

~*~*~*~*~

"Don't you even want to say hello?" Shepard asked, as Miranda fought to keep from plucking at own sleeves.

"It's not about what I want, it's about what's right for her," she explained, heart rate speeding up. Her lungs fluttered. But it was what she had fought for, all this time. To see Oriana, her warm and bright sunrise, with the family that had loved and raised her. Given her everything that Miranda had always wanted. "The less she knows about me, the better. She's got a family. A life. I'll complicate that for her." She deserved to remain innocent of her soiled sister.

Shepard put his hand on her elbow. "She doesn't need any details. But would it really be so bad for her to know that she has a sister that loves her?"

Miranda looked down at Shepard's hand. Her stomach twisted, the memory of a small body in her arms. "I guess not." Oriana was still so beautiful. So innocent, and loved. Standing with her parents and foster siblings.

Shepard gave her a nudge. "Go on. We'll wait here."

Miranda could step into a board room, a scientific conference or a land war in Asia and be comfortable. Yet somehow she never quite remembered crossing those steps. The words she used to introduce herself were lost in a haze. All that mattered was that the person she had sacrificed so much for was before her and more perfect than she remembered.

Yet, the moment that Oriana's foster family walked over to Shepard and Garrus drew her attention like an electromagnet. 

"Now, who is _this_ beauty?" she heard Shepard coo. Her head whipped to the side, heart and lungs slamming to a stop, before thundering with horror. 

Oriana's mother, Talia, was holding a six month old infant in her arms. One who clearly liked to flirt with all and any who would smile in her direction. Her hair was red as fire, and with eyes blue as Illium's ever-present neon. Eyes which fixed on Shepard as soon as they approached. 

She could hear introductions in the background as she tried to focus on Oriana, but even Oriana was distracted by the sight of Chandra leaning out of her foster mother's arms. Nor could anyone in the spaceport ignore her peels of bright, bubbly laughter as she fell towards Shepard, who caught her with a yelp.

"Well, look at you!" She grabbed Shepard's nose. "Look at that hair." He stroked her wispy curls. "And those teeth!" Chandra's laughter started again as Shepard tickled her chin. 

There were so many things Miranda could say at that moment. A part of her was tempted to reveal everything. To beg forgiveness. To tell Shepard that this was the child he mourned, not the miscarriage that haunted him. She wanted to thank him for the chance, however brief, to know the person who was the closest to being the child she would never have. 

Then there was so much she left unsaid, hours later, when she walked into the lift with Shepard to return to the Normandy.

And when she cried, it wasn't just for herself. 

 

The End  
(Of 'Puppet.' More Odds and Ends later.)  
Comments, criticisms and questions welcomed and encouraged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of this drew inspiration from one of the oldest versions of Sleeping Beauty. [Sun, Moon and Talia.](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sun,_Moon,_and_Talia) I'm not too subtle here. 
> 
> This was very, very hard to write. I hope it will be enjoyed.


	4. Masquarade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek Shepard finds that getting into Hock's party is more difficult than he assumed.

  
**Odds and Ends**  
Masquerade

Warnings: Dub-con, heat-cycles, slash, gender-bending, dishonesty about identity, adult language and situations. If I have left something out, please tell me and I will update this list accordingly. Plus, I have to hang a lampshade on some of the more silly parts of Stolen Memory.

Characters/Pairings: Paragade Shepard/Donovan Hock.

Summary: Extra smut that did not make it into Breeder and has a dubious relationship with the rest of the story. I'm indulging my voice kink and my toy kink in this one. Derek Shepard finds that infiltrating Hock's party isn't quite as easy as Kasumi made it out to be. 

Timeline: Takes place early in Breeder, but plays no important part. This is just for the smut. 

~*~*~*~

There were a half a dozen different things competing for Derek's attention at the moment as he flew through the skies of Bekenstein in a skycar. The one that had his foremost attention was his cramps. The second was the warmth of the sun through the windows. Third was the feeling of his new suit against his overheated skin. Only one of them was relevant to his mission. 

"So, am I the only one dressing up, or are you getting into something as well?" Derek asked, resisting the urge to stroke his own sleeve as Kasumi Goto, thief extraordinaire, briefed him on their mission. 

"No. I'm going to be doing recon while you mingle. Hock knows I'm out there, and a couple or a single woman would be more suspicious than a single man. Plus, going in disguise is a no-no for me. I don't let anyone see my face." She adjusted her hood. "Ever. Even in costume. So I'll stay cloaked, look around, and find a way through Hock's defenses while you be charming and convince everyone you're not there to rob people."

Derek nodded, trying to focus on her words. "And the fact that I had one of the most famous faces in the galaxy..?"

The fabric of his suit felt delicious against his too-hot body; soft and flowing, cool and heavy as it draped over his frame. So very different from his usual uniform or armor. So damn... _sensual_. 

He quickly crossed his legs.

"That's dead? You have any idea how many people were getting scars like you used to have? Or getting plastic surgery so they had your nose or eyes?" She nodded at Derek's hooked bill, and his pale green irises. "Trust me, people might notice a resemblance but nothing beyond that. Hell, Keiji-" she stopped and swallowed. "Well, he would have wanted your autograph. Then stolen your underwear."

"Er..." That was weird. Then he realized he was fingering the hem of his jacket like a lover. He clenched his fists. Thankfully they were almost to the Hock Estate, and getting out of the sky car gave him an excuse to cut the conversation short. His eloquence was in short supply at the moment. 

Honestly, Derek wasn't sure he should be there. He had felt himself ovulate (a weird, sharp pop inside his belly) and now everything- the texture of his suit, the way he clenched the muscles of his groin, the feel of a breeze on his skin- was arousing. Yet Hock's party was happening now, and having something other than his own personal drama to focus on was all that kept him from going back to Zaeed, or trying to seduce Jacob or, hell, even _Joker_ \- 

The statue of Saren leered down at them as the Eclipse merc called them out on how they were getting no readings from inside. The warmth of the air around them moving in a breeze towards the cool inside the building was a distraction as it caressed his sweaty face.

"Is there a problem here?"

Derek blinked as a medium sized man, wearing a pristine white suit and a neat mustache and beard approached. His accent, Afrikaans, purred warmly in the warm afternoon haze. 

The merc and Hock spoke, and Derek had to suppress a shiver. Kasumi had already vanished out of the car and into the ether. 

"I don't believe we've met," Hock said, putting his hands behind his back. Derek found he was staring the other man's lips for a moment too long before putting out a hand, remembering his cover. Merc band leader, got lucky to be invited to be fancy party where he could make a good impression and get his pussy, ass and mouth stuffed with- no, no, no- that was the hormones talking. Stay focused. He was there to- to-

Make connections. Get contracts. Find more work for his band. Then rob this asshole's vault.

Derek cleared his throat and put out a hand. "Solomon Gunn." He saw Hock's nostrils flair as the wind shifted behind Derek, his dark and narrow eyes turning black as his pupils swallowed the irises. Derek felt more sweat start under his arms, back and chest, his boxer briefs getting tacky with slick. "A pleasure." _Fuck_.

There was a strange, grudging expression on Hock's face as he clasped Shepard's hand, almost despite himself. Derek had to fight a wince at his damp palms. Hock's hands were broad and solid, dry with light pads of callus, just a bit rough, nails neat, short and clean. They enveloped his as Hock's thumb stroked the inside of his wrist.

That odd expression on Hock's face continued as he released Derek's long hand, absently bringing his palm to his face to flick his tongue across the skin. 

There was silence for a moment as the Eclipse guard gaped, and Derek had to admit he lifted an eyebrow. "Sir," the guard said. "The scanners aren't picking anything up." 

Hock grunted, before he gave his palm one more lick. "I doubt our guests came all the way from Illium, just to cause trouble. Do you?" He turned, walking up to Shepard... and putting his hand on the small of his back. Just above his ass. Derek wasn't sure how he felt when Hock's heavy palm slide down to give a very inappropriate squeeze. 

Oddly, the guard didn't react to this at all. 

"You may pass, Mister Gunn, with my apologies. This is a party meant to mix business and pleasure, and I hope you enjoy both." The squeeze went lower, and Derek felt the breath catch in his chest as his mind stuttered to a halt. One more grope later and Hock was gone, and Derek found himself dazed and fuzzy. 

" _Shepard? Shepard, what just happened? I didn't think Hock would just molest you like that. Are you okay?_ "

"I-" what the hell was he supposed to say? When he had looked at the mission brief, it had mentioned that Hock was a weapons dealer, had ties to the slave and drug trades, and was more than willing to kill in cold blood. The man was a waste of good oxygen. 

_But fuck that voice, those hands-_

"I think I'm not feeling very well. But... he's no worse than some others." He tried not to think of Zaeed and how that bastard had been right. If he went back to the Normandy now he was afraid he would call everyone on board to the crew deck and declare himself the chef's special. "What kind of party is this?"

" _High society, but I took a look around. I hope you're not a prude, Shepard._ "

Walking inside the palatial estate had a cooling effect as he brought his heart and breathing into line. Self-recrimination tried to eat at him, but he wrestled it back into its box. They were here for a job. They could do that job. 

He focused himself by studying the building. The entire estate was a study in marble, glass, gold and sheer opulence. Water fixtures and art didn't just decorate the walls; the designer had done a stunning job of placing everything to portray grandeur, bombastic importance, and belittle the viewer. A psychological study on ego in concrete.

There were only hints of the building's tight security, tucked out of the way so not to interrupt the sweeping view. People were funneled into their proper place in the ball room, with small nooks and crannies for the illusion of privacy and-

Derek stopped when he came face to face with the first heroically sized, anatomically perfect human nude on the corner. The paintings themselves were beautiful, but as he walked in the art progressed from a celebration of the body that crossed species, to suggestive, to erotic, bodies of asari and turians in clay and human orgies in oils decorating the walls. 

Adding to that, the conversation itself was a disturbingly, clinically business-like as the crème de le crème of the underworld and high-powered corporate tycoons alike discussed their trades. Small drones held trays of canapés and flutes of champagne (and other items Shepard didn't recognize, presumably alien) as they floated on mass effect bubbles as they made the rounds of the clumps of guests.

It was easy to just drift from circle to circle until he found the entrance to Hock's vault. After that, Kasumi took less than a minute to figure out how to break inside, and they went to find a way to cut the power. 

He couldn't directly follow his omni-tool's readings through the crowd. That would have attracted too much attention. Instead he had to take the long way, eying where the EM fields were coming from and stopping to chat as he went. Derek had to stop and wipe his face over and over again, as he was still sweating profusely. Sweat that, upon evaporation, carried potent pheromones. Cue several people bumping, brushing, or fondling him as he walked.

He hated it, was embarrassed by his lack of control. These people were scum, the worst people in the galaxy.Yet the constant petting stoked the warmth between his legs, leaving him hungry, _yearning_. His skin felt too tight, his body too empty.

He was glancing towards his omni-tool as he followed its readings, around the fish pool when he came into Hock's orbit. Hock, who suddenly inhaled and took Shepard by the wrist, pulling him flush to Hock's chest and mouth to mouth and-

Shepard _submitted_.

A small part of his mind railed at his body's betrayal as his lips opened, sucking down the tongue that probed, stroked and tasted his mouth. He could feel Hock's hardness pressing against his own as Hock let go of his wrist to put one of those broad hands on the small of his back.

Derek's own arms went to Hock's shoulders, his hair, nails gouging into the other man's scalp as Hock cupped the bulge in Derek's pants, rubbing. Then he moved lower, under, feeling the lack of balls and into-

The wanton moan that echoed through the ball room drew the attention of the assembled guests as Derek humped Hock's hand, mind focused on nothing but getting those rough fingers somehow through his pants and _inside_. He was kissing back as his knees went weak, Hock leaning him back and convincing him, dizzily, that Hock was going to fuck him right there. Not that Shepard cared- so long as he got what he needed _right that moment_ -

A small shock to the back of his neck brought him to his senses, making him bite down on Hock's bottom lip as he stepped away. Blood pooled then dripped down as Hock cursed and let go.

Derek felt his face burn from humiliation and arousal both, his back stiff as he turned from Hock, who stood there with a swollen mouth, a bulge in his pants and an surprised but bemused expression on his face.

There were eyes on his back as he took brisk, sharp strides towards the restroom. Soft whispers followed him inside as he locked the door. He leaned against it, gulping air and wondering when the fuck his body had gotten so out of control.

" _What the hell was that about, Shep?_ " Kasumi hissed in his ear, appearing beside him after a small hiss disabled the restroom's security cameras. He couldn't see her eyes but her lips were spread in a grimace. "I knew this party was going to have some weird games going on... but are you okay? That- you just-"

Derek swallowed, walking to the sink to splash his face when he paused, pointing towards his mouth. "This enough of a DNA sample?" He had a job to do. He always had a job to do. God, his boxer-briefs were soaked.

"I- yes." She flashed her omni-tool over his face and mouth. "Shep, really, what happened? I would understanding some flirting to keep in character but that... "

Derek waved his hands to start the water, splashing his face before putting his face under the tap to rinse his mouth. He swished then spat, noticing that his lips were still trembling. 

"Long story short? Mindoir was using illegal gene mods on their children, and I'm in heat. Anyone makes a pass at me? I'm not really able to say no." He straightened and grabbed at the old fashioned cloth towels. He saw her mouth hanging open in the mirror. 

"Geeze... Shep. I'm sorry. Can I help-"

Derek shrugged, wiping his face dry. "It's bad timing. Let's just get into that vault as soon as we can so I shoot at something."

Kasumi grimaced, and nodded, vanishing again as Derek unlocked the bathroom and walked out, checking the trail again to the power junction. That was when he rounded a corner and-

Into an orgy.

The air was thick with the scent of sex as bodies writhed in the dark, only the minimal amount of clothing moved out of the way for convenience. He blinked at them, at the writhing bodies and had to question if he was really, really seeing this. Because in his current state he knew he was capable of imagining anything and it could just be nothing but he could _smell_ the musk and-

Derek made a strangled groan when he felt a solid body against back.

"Glad to see you're enjoying the party," Hock breathed in his ear. The man's tongue flicked against the lobe as a solid, muscular arm curled around his waist, while the other hand went under the front lapel of his coat to find a tit. Hock took a deep, long breath... 

_He- he smells it. He recognizes the pheromones._

"Mister Hock," Derek answered, struggling to remember his persona. His tongue felt wooden, stupid in his mouth. This, from the man who had talked Saren into committing suicide. "I- earlier- ." He crooned as Hock pinched and rolled his tight nipples.

"Indeed." Hock's free hand began kneading Derek's ass, moving lower and lower, a faint smirk in his voice. "Where did you say you were from, again?"

Elbow to the gut. Stomp the foot. Biotics. Anything. He couldn't just stand there and get more and more wet and tense as Hock moved down his neck to suck at his throat. "I- I didn't." But he had to stay in cover, didn't he? The merc band leader trying to score favor with a major dealer. _God I didn't want to go through this again-_

"Hm. Would you care to join me for a meal in my private rooms, Mister Gunn?" 

"W-what? I-" He was rocking his ass against Hock's groin as saliva pooled in his mouth. He forced himself to swallow. 

"I want to eat your pussy."

"Oh god yes," Derek whispered, one more hot throb of his body overpowered his reason when Hock took his hand again.

~*~*~*~*~

" _Can you get him talking?_ " Kasumi hissed in his ear as Hock held on to Shepard's wrist, leading him towards his private quarters and past the guards. " _Just- hell, get him saying anything. Keep him busy. I can break into the vault while you've got his attention and the attention of his security detail._ " She sounded a little frustrated, and a lot worried, but willing to work with what she had been given. Not that she had a choice.

It was so damn hard to think. Not when Hock would stop every few moments to stroke over his still-clothed erection, leading him down a down a set of stairs and into a palatial suite of steel and marble, an enormous bed and enough seating for a party of twenty. 

Then Hock's mouth was on his neck again as they tumbled on to the bed, Derek humping his leg as the other man popped the buttons off his expensive jacket and shirt and dived down to leave love bites down Shepard's chest. 

When he got to Derek's pants, Derek saw a greedy, hungry smile cross Hock's bearded face as he tore open the seals to pull them down to Derek's knees.

_Keep him talking. Right._ "How did you know-" _Christ he's_ \- Derek's back arched, fingers scraping up wads of the five-hundred thread count sheets as Hock's callused fingers thrust inside his cunt, moving in and out. 

"Did I know that you were a Breeder?" Hock's voice was a delicious purr as he watched Shepard writhe. "You make the kind of connections I have, Mister Gunn, and you have access to many... exotic... resources." He added another finger, flexing them. "Breeders that have, hmm, _flowered_ are worth a quite lot, in the slave trade." Four fingers now, and Derek grunted when he spread them. "Hmm... Very tight. I suspect you've not been this way for long, if you risked coming to my party while like this. The two Breeders I've had before were leashed." A cruel smile crossed his face, flashing as he pressed his fingers in to the knuckles and Derek hissed at the stretch. 

"Once you've smelled one," Hock pulled his hand free, licking at the juices from his fingers. "And seen how it makes you feel, you don't forget. Ever." He pulled his own coat and shirt over his head, before putting his hands under Derek's knees, pushing his feet up past his head, folding the man in half. This tilted up his pelvis, presenting Derek's vulva and asshole for Hock's appreciation.

"Less talking, more fucking," Derek ordered, bracing himself as he jolted when Hock took an experimental lick. 

"In good time. I intend to savor this feast." Hock's fingers dug hard into Derek's ass and thighs, and gave an appreciative moan as he inhaled. He dived back in, and Derek whimpered as Hock's tongue teased at his lips, and into his channel and back out against.

His cock was hard and dripping against his belly as Derek held his knees back, stomach muscles fluttering with every tease, every touch, as Hock took his slick fingers to Derek's asshole. First his fingers, this his thumb, pressing into the ring of muscle. 

Not enough. It wasn't nearly enough. 

"Fuck me." He was gasping, sweating, the image of Hock pounding into his bed and coming inside him, sloppy and hard, their combined fluids up and down his thighs and- 

"You want it, don't you?" Hock said, amused, dropping Derek's ass back on the bed and rolling him on to his front. Derek huffed and complied, grabbing a pillow to bury his face in as Hock reached for a condom. He glanced back, wiggling his ass for Hock as the man rolled the condom down his erection, before leaning down to kiss up Shepard's spine. 

"Yes!" He tried to spread his legs wider, biting the sheets. It didn't matter who and what this man was- not that moment, not when he _needed_ \- he was so damn empty. Drool was spilling down his chin as Hock rubbed the head of Hock's fat dick against his entrance. " _Please_."

"Well," Hock said, grabbing Derek's ass to spread his cheeks and lips. "I pride myself on being an indulgent host..."

He had been in shock when Zaeed had fucked him before- the shock of his body utterly betraying him, his mind freezing at his lack of power- but now he felt everything in sharp, raw detail. The pressure of Hock's erection as it slid past his swollen, sensitive lips, the new and weird stretch and burn as he was opened up, the strange angle Hock's hips flush against his thighs. 

"Oh yes," Derek whined, closing his eyes and face in the pillow. If he didn't look, he could imagine it was someone else. _I wanted this, didn't I_? His hips humped down on the bed, rubbing his erection against the pillows. "More."

Hock chuckled, before slowing his pace as Derek continued to beg, babbling, whimpering how much he needed this, how good it felt, how much he wanted to feel Hock cum inside him and-

"Do you really want that, now?" Hock asked, rolling his hips. "You want to feel my seed inside you, where you need it?" He pulled Derek up on to all fours, grabbing his hands so he couldn't touch his cock. "You want me to fill you up," he said as he slapped his hips up, and Derek tried to drive himself backwards. "My spunk spilling out of you?"

"Yes, yes- I want to feel it." So badly. So much. He wanted to feel spurt after spurt and- "Need it." Derek could feel himself start tilting towards the edge of his orgasm. Almost there- almost-

" _Fuck!_ " he yelped as Hock grabbed the base of his cock and pulled out at the same time. "Bastard. What the hell-" Hock rolled him over as Derek continued to swear.

"You're coming when I'm inside you, Gunn," he said, getting off the bed and reaching for a drawer. "But there's some risks I won't take," and he pulled something out, crawling back over the bed to settle between Derek's legs and giving him a long, deep kiss. Derek closed his eyes, then broke the kiss as Hock stroked something hard and thick against his pussy. It started vibrating.

Derek cocked an eyebrow. 

"Like it?" Hock said, and chuckled. The skin of the dildo felt loose, like flesh, but its solidly cored, but it was colored a strange shade of yellow, with a ridged, arrow shaped head and reptilian textures. 

"Krogan?" Hock was already rubbing it through Derek's slick and up to his entrance, pushing it in. It was far wider than Hock himself, and Derek yelped at the stretch when Hock pulled it back out. 

"You're empty." Hock's smile was amused, harsh, before he started fingering Derek's asshole. He urged Derek back on to his hands and knees, lowering him on to the alien dong. It felt huge, the vibrations throbbing through him as Hock worked his back door. "You want to feel completely full, don't you? And I want to come inside you, but I'm not an idiot. I'll not risk knocking you up- not if I can enjoy this again."

"On birth control," Derek gasped as Hock finished first lubing himself after removing his condom, and pushed inside.

Hock laughed as Derek howled at the feeling of fullness, feeling the buzz of the vibrator contrasting against Hock's thrusts as he went on pounding inside. 

Derek's toes curled as Hock hit his g-spot, head falling backwards as he moaned. He had needed this. Wanted this. Loved it. Loved getting fucked.

"You're a pretty bitch, Gunn," Hock said, crooning before he put another love bite on Derek's shoulder and neck, reaching down to stroke his cock. "So hot, perfect as you hang off my cock." He slammed himself home, Hock's thrusts quickly becoming uneven and messy, his breathing hard as he bit Derek again. 

Hock came, spurting hot and messy into Shepard's ass as Derek continued riding up and down the dildo, howling at what was _almost_ what he needed. Yet the feeling of hot, wet fullness was enough and Derek's body clenched, throbbing and pulsing as he finally, finally got what he wanted.

He fell forward, off Hock's dick and onto the messy sheets, exhausted. The vibrator continued buzzing, unabated.

"That was fun," Hock said, getting up and off the bed. He sounded sated, possessive, as he grabbed a robe off the foot of his bed. "You're the most diverting thing I've experienced in ages, Gunn." Derek saw him rub his beard. "I've wanted to bed another breeder for ages." Derek felt Hock pet his skin, up and down his back. Then he walked towards an intercom. "You're wasted as a mercenary, Gunn. I think I'll keep you." He pushed a button. "Chief Roe, come in please." He paused, as Derek scrambled up and back. "Chief-"

Derek lashed out with a shockwave, knocking Hock backwards. 

Then Kasumi, appearing out of the shadows, stabbed him with her omni-tool.

"That was for Keiji," she said, voice trembling as she withdrew her hand. The thief and the Commander looked at each other for several moments. 

"You saw?" Derek asked, pulling out vibrator, tossing it to the side. Kasumi shifted her weight, turning away. 

"I didn't trust Hock not to hurt you." She looked away. "Let's get Keiji's gray box."

Derek took a deep breath. He could feel semen leaking out of his ass, slick all over his thighs and feeling fucked-out. He let out a shudder, grabbing a blanket to lean himself up.

He felt sick. 

"Right. Let's go."

The End. (Of Masquarade)  
Questions, comments and criticisms welcomed and encouraged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is indefensible as a story. I wrote this for the smut and to make myself happy. I hope you enjoyed it, too.


	5. Diplomacy, part 1

  
** Odds and Ends 5: **

Diplomacy, part one

Warnings: Dub-con, heat-cycles, slash, gender-bending, adult language and situations, and threesome/moresome suggested. If I have left something out, please tell me and I will update this list accordingly.

Timeline: Immediately after Grunt and Mordin's loyalty missions on Tuchunka, which take place before Tali and Legion's, in Mass Effect 2.

Characters/Pairings: Shepard, Wrex, Grunt, Garrus and Mordin. 

Summary: Getting Grunt accepted into Clan Urdnot was just the beginning. A formal alliance must be made, and traditions that cannot be shoved aside. Derek finds himself in the uncomfortable position of having to fulfill an obligation to strengthen an alliance, or weaken his own Clan before the eyes of the krogan people.

~*~*~*~*~

" _No_."

"Shepard," the krogan shaman said, as they strode out of the tomkahs and towards Wrex's throne room. "This is an important Rite. It must be completed."

"I said _no_. We went through your Rite of adulthood," Derek went on, and noticed that he was being followed by an incredulous Garrus. Grunt was trailing behind, shuffling, all of his lines in a pout. "You said that would be enough to get him accepted into Urdnot."

Mordin, who had stayed on-site in case they needed a medic, seemed to be taking notes. 

"Indeed, and you completed the Rite of Adulthood. And in doing so, Urdnot Grunt has chosen you as his battlemaster, who is part of another Clan. An alliance must be made, and in the strongest way possible."

The climbed the pile of rubble up towards Wrex's throne. The krogan himself was sitting there, flanked by his guards, silent and inscrutable. 

"Is there a problem, Shepard?" 

Derek stopped in front of Wrex. Most other humans would be intimidated, but Derek was livid. His green eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. 

"Your shaman has said we have to perform another Rite. And this one-" he stopped, clenching his teeth. "You want to gangbang one of the women in my crew because it's supposed to-" His vision throbbed with anger. "You want to-"

"Shepard-"

"This, Wrex, do you seriously want to-" he clenched his fists, growling as he flashed a biotic corona. "No. I'm insulted your shaman even suggested it. I'm leaving this planet and-"

Wrex stood, putting his hand up for silence. "Shepard, let me explain. This isn't just for Grunt's benefit; it's for yours as well."

"I fail to see how this _benefits_ anyone besides a bunch of horny krogan," Derek snarled, leaning in. Wrex took a step back. Then he paused, and rubbed his chin. 

"Come with me," Wrex said, walking towards a door. When Derek balked, Wrex rolled his eyes and pointed his thumb towards the door. "I promise you, your crew is safe. This isn't about abusing your crew, Shepard. Give me a chance to explain." His court, who was eavesdropping, quickly looked away when Wrex growled. "Alone."

Shepard grunted, and he felt Garrus quickly step up behind him, while the rest of his squad hastily followed to do the same. 

The room was bare, save for what looked to be a krogan sized bed, an armor locker, a water cooler and something Shepard would never have expected: a desk covered in datapads. 

The room was, thankfully, large enough for Wrex, Shepard, and three other bodies. 

"Shaman, what the hell did you tell Shepard to get him so pissed off?" Wrex asked as he took spun his chair around and took a seat. "Because whatever the hell the Rite of Blood Ties is, it's not gang rape."

The shaman looked discomfited. "I told the off-worlder that he would need to prepare one of his fertile females for the embrace of many krogan, so that we could enjoy her, and then our seed would mix and clans be as one." The shaman shifted his weight under the heat of Wrex's glare. 

Wrex palmed his face. Shepard crossed his arms. The silence lasted for several minutes as the two eyed each other.

"Shepard, the Rite of Blood Ties is meant to cement bonds between Clans, and one of the ways to do that was to mix the blood lines. Your Grunt has already been invited to breed; we don't know if any of those couplings will be successful but he's going to be in high demand after you lot killed a Maw. The reverse is also true. We invite a fertile female from the Clan we are negotiating with, one who has had at least one successful pregnancy, and the strongest males of the Clan takes turns with her. After that, any child she has that survives birth will be considered a child of the entire Clan. Before DNA testing, this meant that we had no idea who the child's sire was and all the males were obligated to protect her and all her children," Wrex explained. "She's not to be abused, and usually a volunteer." He chuckled. "And the more she enjoyed it, the more eggs in the clutch. So we did our damnedest to make sure she had a good time. No hurt, no pain. That would mean the eggs would suffer."

"Then what would be the point, Wrex?" Derek rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If you haven't noticed, I have no female krogan in my crew." He reached down to rub his own gut, a sudden flash of remembered pain, even more intense than the pain of his miscarriage, rippled over his belly. "What you're talking about is impossible."

"The purpose of the Rite is to unite two Clans." Wrex shifted his weight. "After the genophage, these couplings were often as infertile as most others. But most of our males and females were so baby-hungry-" Garrus took a step back and Wrex snorted at him. "Not like that. We craved children so badly that afterwards, if the female did give birth the entire Clan called that child theirs. Even if it was years after the fact. Even if there was no possible way that the child was a result of the Rite, we welcomed all children of that female, and protected them with all the might we possessed."

"Speaks truth, Shepard," Mordin interrupted. Wrex lifted a ridge at the salarian. "Older Rite, not often performed because of implications of peace," and here Wrex chuckled," but still one that carries great weight. Krogan enjoy violence, sex, almost to same degree. Carries great political weight to any who would try it."

"See? Even the salarian agrees with me."

Derek shook his head. "I can't do it, Wrex. Asking, let alone _ordering_ , one of my crew to do this would be an abuse of my authority." A bleak smile crossed Derek's face. "Hell, the only person on board who _might_ be able to handle it is a rape survivor, and I feel sick even-"

Mordin cleared his throat. 

"Yes, Mordin?" Derek had a feeling he wasn't going to like this.

"Agree with assessment. Most organic beings on Normandy would not be able to handle stresses of mating with multiple krogan. However..." The doctor had his omnitool out, and hesitated. "Clan Chief, Shaman, how to do krogan define sex and gender?"

"Like most species, I guess. Females lay eggs. Males seed them," Wrex answered with a shrug. "Why? Don't other-"

" _No_." Derek found himself backing towards the door. Another flash of pain brought sweat to his face.

"Shepard, important." Mordin's hands were flailing about. " _Only_ person on Normandy capable of comfortably taking krogan. Muscle, skin, bone upgrades all mean body able to handle talons and," he paused, clearing his throat and inhaling, "scaled genitalia. Also, with enough arousal, body acclimates-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Wrex asked, looking back and forth between them. "And Shepard, why are you acting like a reluctant virgin varren?"

"-human female arousal response creates vaginal tenting effect, widening and lengthening the vaginal cavity. Extra dose of hormones should assure you have enough response. Important Shepard-" Mordin inhaled. "Take this offer. All children later be part of Urdnot, protected, and able to call upon Urdnot for aid."

Shepard growled.

"Want to tell me something, Shepard?" Wrex had his hands on his knees. "Because I took showers with you on the Normandy, and while human junk is soft and squishy it looked male enough to me."

"Shit." Derek ran his hands over his face as muscles twitched, then clenched in knots, in his neck. He made sure not to look at Garrus, but he could feel the turian's gaze on his back. "Wrex, work with me here. Could we go kill another thresher maw?"

Mordin opened his mouth, but Wrex beat him to it. "The symbolism of taking the spirit of the Clan into yourself and making children who are part of that Clan. That's what matters." He shrugged. "I've overturned a lot of traditions, but some are close to sacred. This is one of them." 

Shepard shook his head. "I am not having sex with random strangers. I like sex, I enjoy sex, but fuck, I am not going to spread my legs for people I don't know." 

In the background, he could hear Garrus and Grunt whispering to each other, and Derek grimaced. There were few things that frightened Commander Shepard. Death was not one of them, nor was his own pain. But losing control of his body again, and being helpless under someone's weight and _dear god he couldn't get him off-_

He couldn't move, couldn't breathe to call for help. His hands clenched shut and opened again as he fought to not grab his Claymore shotgun and blast his way out as he felt himself helpless under the weight yet another who would use him-

Derek wasn't sure when he had walked out, clutching at his shotgun. There were krogan in his way, but when the first few went flying out of the way of his shockwave, and the group that took offense were either punched or tossed into the varren pit, they left him alone. 

He kept walking until he couldn't walk anymore, as there was a wall in front of him. That wall had been there since the Krogan Rebellions, and had seen many battles over the ensuing millennia. It had been slammed into by mortars, gunfire and falling bodies.

It didn't stand a chance.

Derek stepped through the hole, and continued through the barren space, feeling heat and dust on his bare head. The wind whistled in his ears, smelling of dry rot and varren dung, but it wasn't the smell of -

\- _sterile emptiness, a warm gush and the need to push_ -

Derek took a deep breath, almost gagged at the scent of the camp, and came to something he couldn't just force his way across. The ravine behind the Urdnot camp provided a defensive backbone, keeping it from being attacked by ground forces. While this was not any kind of protection from guided missiles or drops, those were easily countered by Udrnot having their own stockpiles of weapons and anti-missile countermeasures and the ability to retaliate. A small strike team would have one hell of a time making their way across that divide without being noticed.

There was no way to get further off without just jumping off, and Shepard blinked dry, sore eyes down at the bottom before falling into a squat. 

It felt different from before his change; there was a gap in the armor where his balls used to be. The muscles up and down his legs, back and neck all rippled and cramped in waves, before he got to his feet again. There was another ghostly need to push, and a sound of-

"Shepard."

Derek got out of his squat and composed his face. One thing he did not need was to lose face in front of Wrex. The canny old monster was unlike others of his kind, but he needed to keep Wrex's respect. He couldn't show weakness, or whatever the hell was happening to prompt him to run the fuck away. 

"Wrex." Derek didn't turn around.

"What the hell happened to you?"

The voice was an honest, deep and concerned rumble. Derek grimaced. 

"I didn't tell him anything, Shepard," Garrus said, and then Derek did turn, because he hadn't heard the turian arrive. "I figured if you wanted to say something, it was your choice. But I'm here."

"You can go ahead and say you're fucking, Vakarian," Wrex said, and Garrus backed up. "You smell like each other. Not a hard leap to make. Now, you going to say why you acted all spooked like that? That salarian said something about you being female?"

Derek grimaced. "I get kinda sick of explaining, Wrex. I'm both. Male gendered, but physically, I have both sets." His gaze wandered again, and he realized he could see the female camp from where they stood. Younglings played, but there were very few of them. In the distance there was a pit in the ground, filled with grayish oblongs. Unhatched, unformed eggs. "I'm female enough for your Rite," and here he crossed his arms. "But the idea of doing this with strangers, people might-" _what the hell is happening to me?_ "Hell. I don't know. Work with me, Wrex." He felt a shudder go through his spine. "You're talking about a bunch of strangers using me as a sex toy, no matter how nice you make it sound."

"What's your objection?" Wrex kept his hands open, tilting his head to the side. "Having sex with krogan, or having sex with many krogan?"

Derek bared his teeth. "Do I need to have a reason?" He had his hands on his gut, and he tried to relax from another wave of clenching going down his neck, back and abdomen, and attempted to haul out some charm. "I'm flattered you want to sweet talk me into bed, Wrex, but I don't..." He was sick of it: the loss of control of his body, the outraged helplessness that seethed under the wave of pathetic, whimpering lust; his old childhood nightmare of living out his days as a baby-factory as he let himself be used, and used, and _used_ because he couldn't say no and no one cared if he did. The idea of being forced to make himself available to strangers just...

 _Get him off me!_ Zaeed, Hock, it didn't matter. Not again.

Wrex grunted. "Shepard, I trusted you when we destroyed Saren's cloning facility, and I trusted you when you said that Grunt was worthy of being krogan. In turn I have a second chance to reunite my people and the first krogan in almost a thousand years to kill a Maw on foot." He gave Derek a long look. "Who do I need to kill?"

Derek pinched the skin between his brows, gritting his teeth and tried to will away the next wave of cramps. There was a quiet moment, punctuated by a joyous cry coming from the female camp; one of the eggs had hatched, and a live youngling emerged to be picked up by its overjoyed mother.

And he hurt. Derek's fists clutched at air, struggling to stay in the _here and now_ when he remembered holding his brothers when they were babies. The way Aaron...

_-she cried when she was taken away-_

"It's not sleeping with krogan, Wrex," Derek said, crossing his arms. "Hell, sometimes I'm up for a challenge." He heard Garrus snort behind him and he chuckled. "But this isn't about having some fun with _you_."

Wrex went silent for a moment, rubbing his chin. "I think we can come to a compromise."

Derek felt himself relax, just a bit. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad.

"The Ritual is about taking in the strength and spirit of the two Clans. It doesn't have to be all the males in the Clan. I'm the leader, and the strongest warrior of Clan Urdnot. Your Grunt is part of our Clan now, and is, as you have said, meant to be the perfect krogan. With the shaman's blessing, we should be able to complete the Rite ourselves."

"Besides," Wrex said, with a faint leer, that turned into a genuine smile. "I gotta admit I'm interested. Someone kills a thresher maw, you gotta wonder what they're like in bed..."

 

To be continued  
Questions, comments and criticisms welcomed and encouraged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn't end up the way I had intended. I had originally meant this chapter to go the way of 'chef's special,' where Shepard gets gang-banged by multiple people. I had two ideas I could use. One was during the Party after the Citadel DLC, and the other was during some kind of ritual on Tuchunka. The first would have had lots of fun "no, really, I love you guys! Really! God, Miranda, I love those tits. Jack, I've wanted to lick your ink for ages! Vega, I ride you while Cortez has my ass and-" but I did want to get Thane in there somehow. So I decided I would go with this route and... 
> 
> Welp. Shepard said no. And for the first time, he had the option of making it mostly stick. 
> 
> My first idea was that Mordin suggests sex, and all the non-krogan would help get Shepard warmed up for the krogan. And Derek put his foot down and said 'I'm about to have a PTSD episode here. I may be willing to sleep with multiple people, but now that I can set my boundaries you're going to respect them."
> 
> The rest of this story has been about negotiation. I wanted him to sleep with most of the Clan. He said "I may not be married to Kaidan and Garrus yet, but they're important to me. I'm sick of not getting to choose who I sleep with." So, as I had suggested he had a bit of a crush on Wrex, he reluctantly agreed. (I also told him he would have to have a story where he comforts Thane later. He didn't fight as hard as he could have.) 
> 
> He's not happy about Grunt, but because he knows Grunt (and has no objections to sex with a friend so long as boundaries and consent is respected) he can agree. So I would call this entire situation dub-con.
> 
> If Derek had gotten his way, he would have just left the planet. I'm not usually the type to have a conversation with my characters, but this time Derek really, really protested. Hence why this is out far later than I had anticipated (and almost didn't happen at all) and why it stops here for the moment. I hope this isn't too OOC for anyone.


	6. Disconnect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard becomes worried about Thane's refusal to engage with the crew, and finds him slipping away in to solipsism. Derek Shepard tries to keep it from happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes at the beginning! What a change. This isn't the next part of Diplomacy because that one has just bonked me on the head and refused to budge. I want to write and I have the first few paragraphs written, but its been confusing because I'm not sure which direction to take it. This one, which has its own set of bad implications, is less objectionable for me. It may also be the longest piece of smut I have ever written. Hope you enjoy!

** Odds and Ends 6:  
Disconnect **

Disclaimer: Mass Effect does not belong to me, it belongs to Bioware and EA. I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Warnings/content note: Alien genitalia, infidelity, emotional issues, gender bender and slash, adult language and situations, maybe the longest piece of smut I have ever written.

Timeline: Sometime during Breeder, after Kaidan has departed the Normandy and Thane has been recruited and had his loyalty mission. 

Pairings: Paragade Shepard/Thane Krios

Summary: Extra smut that did not make it into Breeder and has a dubious relationship with the rest of the story. Derek becomes concerned for Thane after it becomes obvious the drell is neglecting himself after he has successfully saved Kolyat and knows he is likely to die during the suicide mission. Derek can't stand the idea of anyone on his ship thinking they are alone.

~*~*~*~*~

Thane had once described how his son had become disconnected from his body, and how he had once done the same. Koylat was no longer a Whole Person, having allowed his spirit to sleep and do as his body willed.

Derek often wondered if Thane was going in the opposite direction. 

It had started small enough. Derek was a big eater, even before his return to the living; being an Alliance soldier meant that he needed to pack in the calories. When his biotics had been upgraded, so too had his appetite. Now, like the other biotics on board, he had to shovel down huge trays of food and harass Rupert for snacks or seconds later on. He was often joined by Jack, Samara and Jacob. Miranda usually took her meals in her office, but she ate almost as often as the rest of them. Food was something most organics looked forward to and enjoyed, and it helped break the boredom of living in a confined space. Even those who weren't biotics tended to enjoy meals. Well, after Rupert had gotten some good supplies, that is.

Thane was rarely seen. 

Fair enough, Derek assumed he had a different metabolism than the rest, or perhaps he didn't find the food palatable. But even after Derek had started making sure he had compatible and tasty food, the drell assassin still failed to join the others. 

So that was how Derek had started visiting Thane, bringing him a tray and then sitting and watching him eat. These sessions had been what had started their conversations on drell and hanar society and religion. It was why Thane had, haltingly, begun telling tales of his family before his wife's murder.

Those frequent visits (and Derek enjoyed them. Samara had been right in her assessment of his great weakness) had been what clued Derek in that Thane was neglecting his body. He ate enough to not starve, but he was ignoring personal hygiene. Derek asked EDI if Thane slept, but it was the bare minimum (if the extranet was to be believed) that drell needed to survive. 

Even after they managed to get Kolyat back on the straight and narrow, Thane still had trouble mingling. He was uncomfortable outside of his room, and spent most of his time exercising in Life Support, browsing the extranet, or meditating. At least, Derek thought it was meditating. 

But more and more often, Thane slipped away into solipsism. 

He would not eat, he would not sleep, would not bathe, but instead Derek would walk in on him sitting there. Thane's eyes would dart about, focused on nothing, lips reciting soft snatches of conversation from a context years gone. Usually they were reviews of good memories, sweeter and happier times. 

Derek could understand the temptation. Living in the moment when the potential pain was so bad was... hard. Having a perfect memory and able to go back to the best times of your life, as if they were as real as life, had to take great willpower to resist.

But bodies weren't things that could ignored for long. Derek had learned that even before his change. Food, sleep, companionship and alone time: abstaining from your needs only meant you broke down all the sooner when the shit hit the fan. And they couldn't afford that on this mission. He needed everyone at their best. 

Which meant he was splurging on good food, alcohol, exercise, and helping put old ghosts to rest; anything to help his crew stay focused and not at each other's throats. Sex was another natural response to stress, and his crew policy was pretty lax. Alliance regs had long since come to realization that fraternization was going to happen, which was why they only forbid relationships within the same chain of command. Cerberus didn't seem to care, but then again, he really didn't think issues of consent were important to the Illusive Man. 

So hook-ups among the human crew were fairly normal. Derek would check to make sure no one was being hurt, then looked the other way. (He also made sure Zaeed was spending his nights alone. He doubted that he was the only person Zaeed had taken advantage of- but it wasn't happening on his ship.)

This eventually led to Derek looking down at a tray of food, the plates covered in human and drell cuisine. He was late for his daily 'date' with Thane, and far into the ship's agreed upon 'night,' and as a result he struggled with some guilt. Thane always was eager for their conversations, even more than the food. Yet tonight he had lingered on with Garrus, and what had originally meant to be a quick, mutual hand job had turned into something far more... athletic. Lots of fun, but it had thrown off Derek's schedule.

He hadn't had much time to clean up; said guilt had kept him from going to the showers before grabbing the tray of food, and he hoped Thane didn't have a profound sense of smell. 

Thane tended to greet Shepard as soon as the door opened. He usually had his back to the door, watching the reflections in the thick window plate overlooking the ship's engines. When Derek was greeted with silence, that was his first clue that something was wrong. Derek entered, cautious, wondering if the assassin had finally taken his advice and gone to visit another crewmember.

He found Thane was asleep, stretched out on his cot, left arm behind his head while his right was just above where a navel would be on a human. Thane was dreaming: his eyes were open but darting about, multiple eyelids fluttering, his lips were wet and forming words that Derek couldn't hear. 

Derek lifted an eyebrow as he placed the tray of food down on the small table. Given the size of the bulge in front of Thane's pants, whatever he was dreaming was a pleasant. In fact, Thane's free hand was drifting down to glide over the tented leather, and his hips canted upwards as he groaned. The drell whispered a name in his sleep. 

Shepard rocked backwards, rubbing his chin as he glanced at Thane, torn. This was personal and private, and watching someone else's wet dream was pretty damn rude. But Derek was nothing if not nosy and- he would be the first to admit- a bit of a pervert. If that tent was anything to go by, Thane's cock was huge. Just how big..?

He walked carefully, surprised the assassin hasn't awakened- because, well, _assassin_ \- and crossed his arms as he examined exactly how high and how full those tight fitting leather pants were, and yeah, he had noticed Thane had a great ass and-

Derek licked his lips, feeling a warm tingle start in his pussy, before pinching the bridge of his nose and cursing himself internally. Goddamnit. The drell was sleeping.

"Sorry, Thane," he muttered, not noticing that Thane's eyes were now open and looking through him as he turned away. "Enjoy your dream."

He took a step away and wondered if Garrus was up for another round. This was private, and personal, and he had no business lingering. Then there was a soft rustle, and dense, muscular arms and the scent of old leather surrounded him. 

"Why are you sad, siha?" a purring, multi-tonal, deep voice vibrated through his bones. Gentle claw tips drew curling patterns over his ass, along his hip as he was pulled back to a firm, hard chest. "You know I can give you what you want."

Derek's jaw went slack. "Thane? What are you-" 

Thane tilted Derek's chin up to press plush lips against his, long tongue pressing into his mouth as Thane kneaded his backside, before pushing him face down onto the table. That thick, writhing bulge rubbed against Derek's ass and Derek clenched his fists as he instinctively widened his stance to give Thane more room.

"You've wanted a baby for a long time, love," Thane whispered, dragging his teeth down the side of Derek's neck. His hand pressed against Derek's belly, drawing circles along the side of his abdomen. He nuzzled Derek's ear. "You want to me to seed you, so you can swell. So you can feel new life move inside your body." He kissed Derek again, humping Derek's ass like he never wanted to stop. "Let's make that baby, Irikah."

Derek moaned into the kiss, a deep shiver going down his spine and straight to his groin as a gush of slick wet his boxer-briefs. The thought that Thane was dreaming passed through his mind, but then ran through his mental fingers like water as Thane continued to croon, conjuring images of himself, round and heavy, filled with... (Kaidan's, Garrus') child. His pussy clenched on air.

"Should have done this years ago," Thane whispered, fingers finding the waist of Derek's pants under his suit jacket, following it around to the front. "I should have done as you asked, siha. Should have filled you with the life you wanted." He unfastened the seals, sliding pants and underwear down Derek's hips. "I can't wait to see you pregnant."

Derek spread his hands and shook his head to clear it, and bit his tongue. He shouldn't have let things get this far.

"Thane. _Stop_ ," he ordered, feeling his biotic corona flare up around his arms and pulling. His back went cold as Thane flew into the air with a gasp, and Shepard turned, warily watching the assassin as he came to sudden and complete wakefulness.

Silence dropped, almost as quickly as Thane did, who landed like a cat. Derek sat down on the table, taking a deep breath, trying to calm his heart _and_ his hormones. 

"Siha?"

"Thane." He watched Thane back away, wheezing as he breathed. "I think you were sleep walking." Derek pushed off the table, feeling for his pants and underwear, pulling them up and on as well as his erection would allow. Thane's enormous eyes were wider than normal. "And about to start sleep fucking. What happened?"

"Siha, are you all right?" Thane asked, stepping back until he sat down on his cot, breathing hard. "I- I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"You groped the hell out of me." Derek palmed his face at the understatement. "But we stopped it before it got much further. I take it you were dreaming?"

Thane looked shocked and embarrassed. Intensely so. "I- the burden of perfect memory. It makes our dreams vivid, intense, and drell are sometimes are prone to night terrors, or sleep activity. I apologize, Shepard. I was," and he looked down at the plate of food that Shepard had brought, then down at the bulge in front of his pants. "Memory and dream mix together, and when the brain fails to paralyze the body in sleep, it is hard to... tell the difference." He gaze fixed somewhere over Shepard's left shoulder. "I was dreaming of how Irikah had talked of having another child, before she was murdered." He shifted his weight, crossing his arms. "Perfect memory cannot be changed, no matter how we might wish it. But dreams are more malleable."

Derek let the silence fall as he digested what Thane had told him. "You called me siha just now, and siha when all this started."

"I-" Thane looked down at his arms. "You often remind me of... her. Your willingness to help others, your spirit, your warmth. You are the first friend I had made in ten years, and I find myself... You and Irikah were switching places in my dream."

Derek found himself tightening his very, very empty pussy, and tried to work saliva into a dry mouth. "So you were wanting to get _me_ pregnant, too?" He meant to make a joke, because Thane couldn't know... but it fell flat, regardless.

Thane looked like he had been struck. "Can you forgive me, siha?"

"You were dreaming. While I may not have a perfect memory, I know how hard it can be to wake up. There's no one here who hasn't had a broken heart of some kind, Thane." Derek shrugged. "You didn't hurt me. Got me a little warmed up," and Derek shivered, tried to laugh, and Thane's dark eyes turned black. "But no real harm. I can forgive you."

Derek took a few steps to go, but the small sound Thane made had him turning back. 

The tray of food was still full. "How long as it been since you've have any kind of physical contact with someone?" Derek asked, as something occurred to him."Casual, sexual... anything?" 

Thane steepled his fingers, looking at Derek, and his brow furrowed. "None, since Irikah died. Work fulfilled me. Reading. My family. I needed little else until they were taken from me and..."

"Thane." Derek sighed, before sitting down next to the drell and taking his hand. Derek's thumb caressed the satin smooth scales of his palm. "I'm not the best person to talk about how you mourn, but... Irikah can't be replaced. Caring for someone because they remind you of the dead isn't fair to either person." 

Thane gave a low, sad chuckle. "I understand. And I'm sorry. Your spirit burns so brightly that it is hard not to be drawn to it, even if I'm consumed."

Derek smiled back, humorlessly. "You have my friendship, Thane, always." He sighed again, and shifted his weight, feeling the cloth of his boxer-briefs cling wetly against his crotch. A glance told him that the tall tent in the front of Thane's pants was still pitched. 

When Shepard had thrown out the words _pity fuck_ at Garrus, he had been feeling lost and angry. It hadn't occurred to him that Garrus might actually desire him, or have a libido to (almost) match. Garrus had enthusiastically proven him wrong. But that wasn't why Derek wanted to stay with him; he wanted to keep Garrus in his life because the person Garrus had become, like Kaidan, made him stronger. They were growing into partners, not just lovers. A part of him felt that if fate and the Reapers allowed it, he would hold on tight and try to keep Garrus and Kaidan with him as long as he could. Even if it _was_ selfish. 

But Thane... if they survived going through the Omega 4 Relay, he would still be living on borrowed time. All he had was a son who was almost a stranger, and a weird human commander who liked to listen to others ramble.

And if Thane ever decided to read a directory in Derek's hearing, Derek would need new pants in about two minutes, tops. 

When Derek realized where his thoughts were going, he frowned and looked at his lap... and that he was still sporting a tent of his own. He _did_ find Thane attractive, and once Thane had awoken he had stopped pressing. Plus... Derek closed his eyes. 

He was about to do something stupid. 

He squeezed Thane's hand, before leaning in, noses and lips almost touching. Thane's multiple eyelids brushed across his face. "I can't be who you need me to be, Thane." He put his hands to Thane's shoulders. "Nobody can do that. But, if you want, I can give you some time." He feathered a kiss over Thane's lips, hearing Thane's breath catch in his throat. "Some comfort." He let his hand spread on Thane's chest and drift down, curious at the different textures, and drew a line across Thane's waist, his crotch. "Stay with me, in this moment. Be alive with me tonight."

Thane's eyebrow ridges went up, eyes watery with emotions Derek knew well: regret, loss, despair, and longing. "Siha..." he kissed Derek, moaning softly as Derek wiped at his tears. 

"No. None of that. Stay with me. Stay here. Now," Derek said, ordered really, and Thane responded by resuming and deepening the kiss, but went no further. Derek pushed him backwards onto the cot, straddling Thane's waist... and couldn't help himself as he ground down onto that thick bulge, watching Thane writhe. 

"You are," Thane murmured, breaking the kiss before Shepard dived back in, hands moving up and down each other's bodies. This went on for some time, until both men shifted enough for Shepard to pull off his shirt and coat, and for Thane to sit up and do the same. The touching continued, exploring the differences, the alien shapes and planes of each other's bodies. "Remarkable," Thane concluded, the soft rattle in his breathing just beneath hearing. "But why..?" He didn't stop, though, claw tips drawing over the slabs of muscle under Derek's soft, olive skin, to his collar bone. 

Derek swallowed, feeling the familiar sensation of his cunt becoming wet, opening up, getting heavy. But to his surprise... and relief, he could still think. "You're a sexy man, Thane," Derek said, in all honesty. Thane was smooth, wiry, his muscles denser than a human's. He hit that sweet spot of what Derek found appealing: graceful on and off the battlefield, a voice like velvet and kid leather against his ears, and a kiss you could drown in- speaking of which-

Thane had a delectable tongue.

His hips flexed, arching into Derek's groin and rubbing against his sensitive labia and making Derek break the kiss to whine in the back of his throat. God, he had to be huge... "I don't mind sharing myself with a friend, if that's what you need," Derek breathlessly went on. He didn't. Before his time on the original Normandy, he had several casual friends he would meet with on shore leave for a pleasant weekend, or meet for drinks and some fooling around; he rarely lacked for company. "Besides, there aren't many who could keep their pants on around you when you start talking."

Thane stopped and blinked, lifting an eyebrow ridge, as Derek guided Thane's hands down to his waistband, opening the seals. Thane let his hand stroke over Shepard's dick, making him hiss, and lower and...

"Hmm. Interesting," Thane whispered, the tips of his claws lightly tracing Derek's pussy lips. "You... you were aroused by what I was saying to y- to Irikah?" Derek felt his breath catch as Thane pressed scaled fingers inside him, licked his lips and closed his eyes as Thane probed, searched. "I had not realized humans could be hermaphrodites."

Derek opened his eyes again, wincing as those words tried to break the mood. "Not- not usually, Thane." The drell opened his mouth, and Derek shook his head. Thane put his free hand on Derek's face and nodded, before cupping the back of his head to put his lips to Derek's ear.

"So... you want that, do you?" he said, voice a low buzzing purr, sliding another finger inside. "You want a child? To become large, full to the point you can barely move? To carry a new life beneath your heart?" Thane nuzzled Derek's neck, then kissed the line of his chin. "You want me to fill you up?" He bucked upwards, again, and Derek shuddered. Thane's eyes went utterly black as his pupils widened until almost no iris remained. "Want me to come inside you? Again, and again," and he pulled his fingers free of Derek's cunt, licking the slick off his fused middle fingers. "Until the come is leaking out of you and you-"

Derek lunged down, biting his bottom lip firmly, but not hard enough to break the skin. He let go and stood, breathing hard and let his pants and underwear drop, stepping out of them and his shoes, kicking off his socks. Thane raised himself on one elbow, watching as Derek cupped his groin, before leaning back onto his cot so he could shuck his own pants. 

Silence fell. 

Derek felt his own eyes widened as he licked his lips, and Thane chuckled, a bit self-consciously. 

"No wonder it felt like a pair of snakes fighting in there," Derek murmured, straddling Thane's mottled green legs and reaching down to take both of Thane's cocks (his mind ran through technical terms like 'hemipene' or 'bifurcated') and just took the time to stroke and admire them. They were both pale, with the veins standing out under translucent skin. They were slick, not scaled, covered in bumps which were not quite spines, leading up to a pointed head, and joined at the base where they emerged from a vent. One was at full mast, and about five, six centimeters thick while the other was still twitching, trying to fill.

Derek's mouth watered, and he didn't realize he was leaning down towards them when Thane put a hand on his forehead. 

"That would be... unwise, Siha," he murmured, hips pulsing with every stroke of Derek's hands. He licked his lips again. "I- when I realized I found you attractive I looked up, hmm," he groaned when Derek took both cocks in hand, pumping up and down. "Various materials, so that I could construct fantasies- and-" his jaw went slack as Derek moved up, rubbing his very wet lips against the shafts. Thane swallowed, putting his hands on Derek's waist and pulling him closer. "Don't- just don't." He couldn't get more words out. Probably because Derek was still balanced over his cocks, a frown on his face.

"How do you use them?" Derek asked, curious, sliding the head of Thane's more erect, thicker member against his opening to tease them both. Then he gasped when Thane arched upwards, the head plunging inside. "Oh... oh, _hmmm_..." The ridges, not-quite-spikes, stroked his inner walls and _damn_ this was nice-

"One at a time," Thane rasped, eyelids fluttering. "Are humans- are you all this hot inside?" His hips continued to piston, in and out, and Derek leaned down.

"Mammal," Derek said with a grin, leaning down to kiss Thane. "Hair, live young, produce milk," and god the idea of himself with leaking tits while ~~Kaidan~~ someone sucked at them just had his pussy spasm like a vice. "High body temperature." 

The bumps felt good, almost-but-not quite rough, and Thane seemed to be enjoying the heat and wet as he sped up, and Derek bit his lip as the cock inside him seemed to get bigger-

And Thane came, hard and hot, going soft a beat later. Derek grunted, and couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. But then he reminded himself that, as much as he had been enjoying this, this was not for him. It was for Thane, and...

Thane hadn't stopped thrusting upwards, and he put his hand on Derek's face, pulling him down for a kiss as he chuckled. "Wait."

Derek's eyes flew wide as he felt something squirm, and slide up the side of the retreating cock- briefly doubling the girth of the base inside him. His jaw dropped, head falling backwards at the delicious, almost-painful stretch-

He gasped, coming hard as he clenched down with legs, hands and pussy, head dropping down as Thane stilled his hips. Thane smirked, and Derek would had snorted at the smug bastard if he could just get his toes to uncurl...

Thane wasn't finished, though, and Derek would have purred as Thane sat up, pulsing his hips, and they shifted until Derek took his weight and Thane was on top of him. 

"Surely that's not all you have, Siha," Thane whispered, and Derek lifted an eyebrow. He could feel the first cock draw completely out, while the second one was solid, thick, and throbbing with Thane's heartbeat.

"You," Derek said, licking his lips and wrapping his legs around Thane's waist and clawing at Thane's back. "Haven't gotten the best of me yet." Being genetically engineered to be a sex fiend had at least one advantage; with a partner he liked, he could reload faster than a krogan with a shotgun. He shifted his weight, getting more comfortable. "You promised to fill me up, Thane. You better keep it."

Thane's own eye-ridge went up, and Derek groaned as Thane accepted the challenge, hefting Derek's knees over his shoulders, tilting his body upwards as he began to piston inside of Derek. The sound of skin slapping against scales filled Life Support, mixed with soft breathing and the wet squish of come as it churned into a froth. Derek lifted himself onto an elbow, spreading his legs wider so he could watch Thane's pale cock as it disappeared inside his red, swollen cunt, under his equally swollen member. Thane's hips jerked, and Derek saw Thane's other dick harden, pressing inside. Derek bit his lip at the full, sharp stretch a moment before Thane came, his cock becoming soft but not falling out this time. The slurp and slide of more come inside had Derek growl, bucking up against Thane before coming himself-

He clenched down, muscles of his pussy, stomach fluttering, spurting come over his own belly and chest even as he felt his pussy squirt. Then he hissed in pain as Thane slowed his thrusts, letting Derek's legs drop from his shoulders, and shuddering as he pulled out.

"Thane?" Derek asked as a gush of come, a mix of his and Thane's, ran down the inside of his thighs... and he felt himself stiffen and wet at the same time at the sensation. God help him, but he loved the feeling of being just _so damn full_ -  
Thane was holding his two cocks, both hard at the same time, and both quite, quite thick. Derek swallowed. 

"It really has been a long time, hasn't it?" Derek asked, sitting up. Thane's expression was a mix of smug and a little embarrassed, before leaning in for another kiss. 

"Hm, yes." Thane had pulled out his hemipenes, but he eased his fingers back inside Derek, and Derek shivered as he felt the come inside him slosh. "Though part of it is you, Siha." Thane was damn good at finding his g-spot, crooking his fingers even as Derek groaned, sensitivity edging almost into pain. "I have," he kissed Derek, "imagined," another kiss, this time on Derek's neck, "craved," his lips sucked, leaving a faint mark. "This." He exhaled, eyes turning watery again as he put his head on Derek's shoulder. 

"Don't drift away, Thane. Stay here," Derek whispered, begged, shuddering as those fingers kept him right on the edge of getting aroused again, even as Thane rocked against him. "Let me up. I've got another hole," he said, more a suggestion, and Thane's blinked and smiled as he moved back and Derek swung off the cot and draped himself over the table, legs spread wide, ass up in the air. He gave Thane a smirk.

Thane laughed, a little shaky. Derek felt Thane's fingers drag through the thick stream of come dripping down the inside of his thighs, then smearing it around Derek's asshole. A moment later, Derek felt the smooth, slick heads of Thane's cocks as they both eased inside as Derek grabbed the table hard enough to creak.

"You will be beautiful, siha," Thane whispered. His lips were against Derek's shoulder as his hips and thighs slapped at Derek's ass and pussy. "Can you imagine your child kicking, moving inside you?" Derek growled, moving with him, the wonderful fullness in his cunt and ass almost had him seeing stars, while those almost-spines stroked his g-spot from two different sides.

He came within moments, going limp, letting Thane finish up. He felt overfull, so much of his own slick mixed with Thane's come it sloshed, spilling on the floor between his feet as Thane pulled out.

The sound of breathing lasted for several moments as Thane licked and sucked at Derek's shoulder, hugging him from behind as they walked backwards to Thane's cot to collapse on it. For several moments they just breathed... and Derek fought the urge to roll on to his back and spread his legs for Thane again.

"Thank you, siha. But why? What did you hope to accomplish?"

Derek swallowed. His skin was covered in sweat, streaked with come and slick, and his pussy and ass throbbed. He felt sexy but sated, desired. He wanted to do it again. Against the wall, on the table, in the showers... This had felt good, and it wasn't about Thane anymore. Dammit.

"Did you call me by her name?" Derek asked in return. He felt Thane lean on him, and the urge to roll onto his back or knees and have Thane slide back inside got stronger... because, _damn_.

"I," Thane looked away, and Derek grimaced. "I know you are Shepard, but..."

"But you can't separate the two." Derek stood up, feeling Thane's eyes on him. "I want you to try to live, Thane. Your life does matter. To your son, to me, and I know it mattered to Irikah. If she loved you as much as you said she did, she wouldn't want you to spend your remaining time in a single room. You're making a difference in the galaxy, sure. But you deserve some joy, too."

Thane's eyes were inscrutable. Then he stood, grabbing Derek's hand to pull them flush, lips pressing together. He kissed Derek, let his hands linger over Derek's sides, back and waist. Derek allowed it, but stayed still. 

"You have- I have," Thane said, after he stepped back. "I don't deserve such kindness-" 

"You do. No one should face death alone, Thane." He sighed, getting to his feet. "And you aren't. Just... I can't give you more." 

Thane nodded, and swallowed. "I understand. I will... keep this discreet." 

"Thank you." He looked at the plate of food, and tried smiling. "Are you hungry?"

Thane blinked at him, all four eyelids... and nodded. "Famished."

~*~*~*~*~

Sneaking through his own ship with come in his hair had been one of the stupider things Derek had ever done. Despite this, he had gotten back to his cabin without anyone stopping him. A minor miracle on a ship like this.

He showered, mind going in a dozen different directions while guilt curdled in his sour stomach. Honesty would compel him to tell Garrus and Kaidan of his indiscretion, but then again, they had the suicide mission still ahead of them. Up until the hunt with Saren, he had kept his self-imposed rule of never sleeping with a member of his crew, let alone a subordinate. Then his body had changed and...

He turned off the water, but let his forehead knock into the wall as he growled. Sleeping with Thane had been a mistake. Not the action itself. Lust was cheap and easy to come by, and before he had met Kaidan and Garrus he would have eagerly propositioned Thane, and kept the invitation for sex open if they met again. But neither of his... what? He needed to have a long talk with Kaidan and Garrus, to see where this was going, if it was going anywhere at all. 

And if he wanted to lie to himself, oh, he could lie to himself. He hadn't discussed exclusivity with Kaidan or Garrus. Whatever the hell he had going on with both of them, they couldn't possibly have a problem with him sleeping with other people because they had suggested it first! He wasn't going to sleep with Thane again, it had been a one-time thing. He had been trying to _help_ Thane. Really.

He thumped his head against the shower wall again, trying to shake honesty loose. Of course Kaidan expected him to be exclusive. Most humans did. That he had chosen to have casual relationships with multiple people in the past didn't change that. Garrus hadn't said, but he had been good to Shepard, and treating him otherwise was cruel. Kaidan and Garrus were friends, and they had suggested that Derek sleep with Garrus because Garrus was someone they both trusted. Kaidan didn't even know Thane existed.   
He did want to help Thane, but his impulse had been a mix of pure lust (his own, not just because of his heat) and a desire to keep Thane from slipping away. Thane needed something to live for, but Derek knew he couldn't provide it. Or rather... he _could_. He could easily fall for Thane, as much as he had for Kaidan and Garrus. But it would never be a healthy relationship, because Thane couldn't separate his feelings for Derek from his dead wife... and both Garrus and Kaidan deserved better.

Now he had to decide how to handle this mess. 

There was a faint chime, announcing that Garrus had come up for a visit. Derek went to the mirror, and checked to see he had his smile on, and smooth out the worry lines, before going out to meet him.

~*~*~*~*~

When Derek went to visit Thane again, he found himself greeted at the entrance.

"Siha."

This was going to be harder than he thought. "Thane." Derek felt the door close behind him as Thane stepped in close, taking the tray of food away from him and turning to take it to the table. 

He stopped, watching Thane move with no little appreciation mixed with of remorse and regret in his stomach. If Derek had genuinely been kind to Thane, he would have gotten up and left as soon as he had awoken Thane from that dream. He wouldn't have allowed himself-

"Thane," he said again- somehow the drell assassin had gotten in close, body almost but not quite touching his. Then there was a kiss, and Thane had picked Derek up grabbing his ass and Derek's legs were around the drell's waist as he was pushed against the wall shelves and there was that thick warm writhing against his crotch of Thane's cocks emerging from his open pants.

"Siha," oh god that tongue and those lips on his ears as Thane cupped his crotch to tease both his dick and his pussy, smearing his pre-come over Derek's fly. "One more time. Please." 

Derek had pants and underwear around his knees in a breath, nodding frantically and stepping out of one pants leg as Thane picked him back up. Derek held his shoulders in a death grip as their tongues tangled. 

As both of Thane's erections sank into Derek, both coming to sudden and full hardness inside him and making his eyes roll back, he felt the thought slip by...

_Just... one more time. Just one more time..._

The end..?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I made it clear, but Derek is very polyamorous. He does indeed care about his lovers, and he's also aware that this won't really work with himself and Thane... but he's also somewhat disconnected between his mind and body, because at this point he both loves and hates it. Loves being able to be back with his loved ones, but hates his lack of control. Loves sex, loves pleasure (he's a bit of a hedonist) and experiencing new things... but refuses to acknowledge that what he wants is a family. I've tried to emphasize that this is not just his genetic tailoring, too. He's the oldest of a large family and genuinely likes kids. (My head-canon is that he wanted to be a teacher at one point. He was thinking of joining the Alliance military so he could go to school for it.) He just can't admit to himself yet that he wants what he lost back. So his body is doing what it wills. Hope that made sense!
> 
> Plus I wanted to write the smut. Never romanced Thane for some of the same reasons I never romanced Liara- the relationship never seemed healthy. Doesn't mean that they're not attractive, though.


End file.
